Silent Sjofn
by N.T. Embe
Summary: Could Tseng have been their guiding light from the start? Zack and Aeris… two people he cared for so dearly, yet could never tell them that he did. So he watched their love, and held his own back. Because…they shouldn’t need him like he did them.


**Title:** Silent Sjofn

**Rating:** PG

**Theme:** One-Sided Love

**Pairings/Characters:** Zack, Aeris, and Tseng

**Spoilers/Warnings:** Spoilers for Crisis Core, Last Order, and FFVII.

**Time Period:** Several years after FFVII.

**Summary:** Could Tseng have been their guiding light from the start? Zack and Aeris… two people he cared for so dearly, yet could never tell them that he did. So he watched their love, and held his own back. Because…they shouldn't need him like he did them.

**Word Count:** 1,471

**Dedication:** To my sister, Michelle. Thank you for making me feel excited about doing my homework last minute. You inspired me, and out of it, came this.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters. I just love them so, so much.

**A/N:** This… is actually a homework assignment I was writing for my Creative Writing class! X3 I'm such a bad girl. I couldn't get inspired for anything to write! D: So I decided, when in doubt, USE FFVII! Of course, that meant I had to use almost no names and references to the game. Wouldn't want me professor finding out. XD But! Here it is. I hope you enjoy it.

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**Note:** This fic has been re-uploaded as of May 4th in order to fix a few typoes and some spacing issues that occurred when the site was updated. It's all better now! So read on and enjoy~!

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_Sjöfn (__Sjofn), the Norse Goddess of Love, Passion, and Marital Harmony._

She is the daughter of Freya, the goddess of fertility, and was said to have been challenged in olden times by Aphrodite, who purported herself as Sjofn to attempt to lure her into a rematch for an unmentioned clash between the two sometime before. Sjofn is said to awaken love and passion between people, and her duties and responsibilities concern the matters of romance between the gods and mortals. In Sjofn's case, the love she inspires is not casual, but rather love that leads to relationships and commitment. It was also a duty of hers to settle the fights that arose between married couples.

. . . . . . .

Duty and indecision—these had been the knells of untimely endings throughout his life.

. . . . . . .

"_You cannot let your emotions control you! Your sole purpose is to achieve the objective—at any cost! Disregard human casualty, morality, or your conscience! You knew what you were getting into when you sought us out. There's no turning back now. We __own__ you. Deal with it, or there's no future for you—anywhere."_

_He should have escaped while he could. Turned in his Walther and faded into the shadows of the noxious city. Even though less skillful…even though death almost certainly awaited him…had he done so, he would have spared himself from the death of his own humanity, and…so many others._

"…_yes sir."_

_His death would have been far less a price to pay._

. . . . . . .

Water droplets, like translucent crystals, dotted the golden flowers and their green mantles of leaves. A curious breeze whisked from the reclining grasses and amongst their sunlit crowns, pushing them to one side and then the other, as some dog might with its muzzle as it snuffled for something of interest within their crowds. The small waterfall to the side of the garden chattered just as eagerly as it ever had, reducing its eagerness into casual conversation as it became the small brook that irrigated the cottage's many patches of flowers. It had not changed, even amidst the chaos and destruction of the city some few years before, this small section had suffered neither injury nor intrusion.

It alone was the only thing that remained unchanged over the years. Her voice, or his, no longer resided here…came to visit when he thought she might be free to spend some time together. A faint smile came to the dark-haired man's face. Those two…they had been so…flattering at each other's sides. Her honey brown locks and vivid emerald eyes would so commonly be seen watching him, looking to him for guidance or out of ire—a playful tone to her gentle voice as she chastised him. And he? He would laugh sheepishly, that same broad grin on his face while sapphire eyes were hidden from sight as he ducked his head, a mess of black hair falling wild about his shoulders. A pleading comment or an apology—he was always gracious, and she appropriate. Looking back on the few times he had been with them when they'd been together, his chest tightened at the memories.

Both of them had been beautiful…together.

. . . . . . .

"_What did you say?" he asked quietly into the phone, his voice quavering._

"_It's them! Cloud and Zack! They're the escaped test subjects that we're supposed to hunt down!" the woman's voice on the other line shouted back, her voice ringing with shock._

_He did not answer._

"_Sir! They've sent out the army after them! We…after what happened…! What are we supposed to do?"_

_Silently he turned his back on his desk and faced the tall windows behind him, full of beacons and flashing searchlights. The entire building was in a panic._

"_Sir? Sir! Answer me! What should I do?"_

'_We have our duties,' he should have said like the well-trained mutt of the company he had become. 'Carry out the orders that were given us: capture them, don't worry about their lives.' But he did not._

_Indecision. He would be reprimanded, demoted…? He had worked so long and hard to achieve this position…and he had sacrificed everything…everything but…._

"_Sir! We don't have TIME! Are you still there?"_

"_Rosalind," he answered quietly. "Don't let the army reach them."_

"_Sir…?" the woman replied hopefully._

"_Go. We don't have much time. I'm leaving now."_

"_...yes sir!"_

. . . . . . .

_Maybe…if he hadn't hesitated…he could have saved them…._

"_Get down!"_

_Shots fired._

. . . . . . .

_Not long after…she had fallen into his care. And yet…still…he could not shake off the bane that led eventually…to the moment that she was taken from him too._

. . . . . . .

"She grew these flowers."

The suited man turned, silver eyes resting on an aging woman nearly half his height. Her ashy brown hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head and she held in one arm a broom she had been clearly about to put into use before spotting him. Stepping down from the door and moving along the curving dirt path to where he stood, there was still vigor to her motions and as their eyes met, the ultramarine of hers glistened like the stream behind him.

"Then you didn't have them before finding her?" he asked, mildly curious. This was something none of them had ever shared before with him.

The middle-aged woman shook her head. "There were a few when I first brought her home. But she fell instantly in love with them. Would rush out every morning before any normal child would wake to talk and listen to them." The woman's lips pursed slightly. "She never told you, then?"

Silently, he shook his head. "I don't believe she felt she needed to."

The woman made a noise of agreement, nodding her consent. "Makes sense," she said with the matter-of-fact warmth only a mother could pull off. "If she felt you needed to know, she would have said something." Shifting from one leg to the other, she leaned upon her broom. "She was like that even with me."

"I'm certain you still know more about her than I do, though," he pointed out, a faint smile ghosting his lips. "More than perhaps anyone does."

The woman nodded again, then paused to study the man before her. His black hair was longer than when she had last seen him, and his face seemed less burdened. Though he still wore the suit like he had every other occasion she had seen him, there was no blazer or tie. It was a very unusual way for him to appear, in comparison to the perfectly composed, intimidating figure she remembered. She wasn't even certain when had been the last time he had paid her a visit. Then again, there was enough reason for him not to.

He had, after all, lead her daughter to her death.

Yet still, he came. That and his steadily changing appearance as the years went by assured her that he himself had changed. Even as she thought this, the slightest birth of a smile came again to his face.

"She never hated you."

The man stayed silent at the woman's words.

"Even though she said it, and even after how you treated her and the ones she loved and cared for, even though a lot of people—myself included—still hold it against you in our hearts that your actions killed her? She still never hated you. Even now, she wouldn't hate you."

He held her gaze, but the smile was gone, replaced by a look of sadness.

"And…for that reason, I can't hate you either."

"You don't have to force yourself to do something that goes against what you truly feel, Elmyra," he said gently.

"That's right," she responded promptly. "And I'm glad you finally learned that, young man. But I'm not going against nature saying this." Reaching out, she placed a hand on his arm and looked up into the face of the taller man. "My daughter knew what she wanted to do better than any of us ever could. She followed her heart, and no matter what you could do to try to stop her in order to save her, it didn't make an inch of difference." Warmly, the woman smiled up at him. "I know you cared for her deeply. Just like you did for her friend. I may not have understood what you were doing when you did it, but like you, little old Elmyra's grown too." She squeezed his arm affectionately. "I know now you did it out of love. Blind, dumb, desperate love for the both of them."

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**Author's Note:** I… love Tseng so much. And he…! He suffers…! _So much!_ I just… want to let him know… that he doesn't have to live his life hurting like this. He was loved. He _has_ to know that!


End file.
